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The TV played in the background, and Zoe took charge of the dinner order. Everyone found a spot on the floor, the bean bag chair, or the couch to sit.
“Are you okay? Do you need more water or pain medication?” Brooke asked me softly.
“I’m taking over-the-counter pain pills. I don’t like the way the stronger ones make me feel.” I wanted to be aware of my surroundings.
“Where’s Colton?” Brooke asked.
The group fell silent, waiting for my answer.
“He’s working. He wants to find the guy that did this.”
“Right. That makes sense.” Brooke looked at me with concern.
“Is it selfish that I want him here?” I directed the question at everyone.
“It’s natural that you want him by your side when you’re hurt. When I first started seeing Ethan, I caught a stomach bug from Miles. Ethan stepped in, held my hair when I threw up, and made me soup. It showed he cared.” Savannah must have caught the look on my face and corrected, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that Colton doesn’t care.”
“It’s okay. I knew what you meant.” But what she said was true. Being here, calling to check on me, was a sign that he cared. I didn’t think he didn’t, but something else was holding him back. My assault triggered him. Brought back his past somehow.
“I’m sure everything is fine….” Savannah’s voice trailed off at the end.
“He took care of me last night and this morning. I was the one who wanted to see my parents. I’m probably overreacting.” I hated that my voice sounded so small. That I made myself vulnerable by saying it out loud. But these were my friends, and I could be honest with them.
“Trust your instincts,” Brooke said.
What did the uneasiness in my stomach mean? “I have this feeling that he’s pulling away.”
“If the same thing happened to me, Max would want to know who was responsible, too. Guys like to fix things,” Zoe said.
“I get that, but he said he felt responsible for what happened. It doesn’t make sense.” I looked at my friends’ faces, waiting for them to agree with me.
“It’s not so ridiculous to someone whose job it is to protect people. Maybe he takes your safety seriously, and he feels guilty that you were hurt. That he could or should have done more. It doesn’t matter if his reasoning is rational if that’s what he’s struggling with,” Sophie said.
It sounded like what she was saying was from personal experience.
Sophie let out a breath before continuing, “My ex in high school was like that. At the time, I thought he was overprotective, but my parents thought he was more mature than the other guys in school. They liked him.”
“He’s the one who enlisted out of high school and wanted to get married?” Brooke asked.
Sophie nodded. “I was a freshman in college. The idea of getting married at that age was crazy.”
Hailey covered her chest with the palm of her hand. “It’s kind of romantic, though. He couldn’t live without you.”
Sophie’s face pinched.
I wondered if she regretted letting him go. Wanting to take the attention off Sophie, I asked, “What if Colton walks away from our relationship because he feels guilty about what happened?”
The thought of us being over hurt more than my broken ribs.
“You can’t worry about things that haven’t happened yet,” Brooke said, ever the voice of reason in our group.
I needed to meditate, to clear my mind of the anxious thoughts. If I didn’t, my mind would continue spiraling toward the worst-case scenario.
The intercom buzzed with our dinner, and we sat on the couch and the floor, eating out of the boxes. It was good. I had my friends. My family. It had to be enough. At least until I figured out what was going on with Colton.
When my friends left, I carefully changed into pajamas, worried about jolting my ribs. Exhausted from the effort, I sat on the bed, propped on pillows. I pulled Colton’s contact number up on my phone, not sure if I should reach out to him. Something told me that telling him he wasn’t responsible for the assault wasn’t enough for a guy like him. Hailey was right. Colton’s protective streak was stronger than in any other guy I’d dated. Not being there for me had to hit him hard.
Instead of contacting him, I lay back on the bed, taking five deep breaths, then tried to clear my mind. Thoughts and images kept coming into my consciousness, the look on Colton’s face when he told me he felt responsible, the sense that I couldn’t get through to him, that he’d walk away. Each time, I gently pushed the thoughts away, focusing on my breathing.
Opening my eyes, I didn’t feel any better. Policing my thoughts was exhausting. I had to believe that Colton was doing the right thing. That he’d come back.
Otherwise, I’d start crying and never stop because I was in love with him. If he walked away, he’d break my heart.
I’d never loved someone like this. It was all-consuming. And when he wasn’t here when I needed him, it hurt. More than hitting my head on the pavement. More than that kick to my stomach.
The pain took up residence in my chest, unfurling through my body.
I wouldn’t let the guy who assaulted me stop me from walking down the street. I wouldn’t let him make me feel unsafe. I was stronger than that.
But Colton withdrawing his love? I wouldn’t survive that. Not after getting a taste of what it was like to be in his arms, cared for and loved.
